cy, though she soon perceived them to be narrowly watching her.

Her manners gave some re-assurance to Edward, and he had courage
enough to sit down; but his embarrassment still exceeded that of the
ladies in a proportion, which the case rendered reasonable, though his
sex might make it rare; for his heart had not the indifference of
Lucy's, nor could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's.

Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined to make no
contribution to the comfort of the others, and would not say a word;
and almost every thing that _was_ said, proceeded from Elinor, who was
obliged to volunteer all the information about her mother's health,
their coming to town, &c. which Edward ought to have inquired about,
but never did.

Her exertions did not stop here; for she soon afterwards felt herself
so heroically disposed as to determine, under pretence of fetching
Marianne, to leave the others by themselves; and she really did it,
and _that_ in the handsomest manner, for she loitered away several
minutes on the landing-place, with the most high-minded fortitude,
before she went to her sister. When that was once done, however, it
was time for the raptures of Edward to cease; for Marianne's joy
hurried her into the drawing-room immediately. Her pleasure in seeing
him was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself, and
strongly spoken. She met him with a hand that would be taken, and a
voice that expressed the affection of a sister.

"Dear Edward!" she cried, "this is a moment of great happiness!--This
would almost make amends for every thing?"

Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved, but before such
witnesses he dared not say half what he really felt. Again they all
sat down, and for a moment or two all were silent; while Marianne was
looking with the most speaking tenderness, sometimes at Edward and
sometimes at Elinor, regretting only that their delight in each other
should be checked by Lucy's unwelcome presence. Edward was the first
to speak, and it was to notice Marianne's altered looks, and express
his fear of her not finding London agree with her.

"Oh, don't think of me!" she replied with spirited earnestness, though
her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke, "don't think of _my_
health. Elinor is well, you see. That must be enough for us both."

This remark was not calculated to make Edward or Elinor more easy, nor
to conciliate the good will of Lucy, who looked